


an open book (a torn out page)

by superstarrgirl



Series: patchwork children [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alzheimer's Disease, Death, F/M, about keeping him safe, i love my steggy as much as the next girl, it broke me, it's a bit of a mess i won't lie but i watched SNAFU yesterday and that one quote, peggy carter character/life study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 00:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3401978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superstarrgirl/pseuds/superstarrgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He put the plane in the water, because he was a hero and a soldier and she stayed on the line with him until he died. Stark spent six months trying to find a ship in the ocean, trying to pull a soul out of a man who Peggy knew was no longer alive. </p><p>Stark was searching for a man who had disappeared. Peggy wanted to tell him that sometimes you can be looking the wrong way and not even realize."</p><p>(A character study-type of Peggy Carter)</p>
            </blockquote>





	an open book (a torn out page)

**Author's Note:**

> idk if this is a character study but i suppose it's peggy's lifetime after losing steve? it's a bit of a train wreck but whatever, i like it. enjoy!
> 
> title from the ever-wonderful sleeping at last's "neptune"

He’s in the middle of a sentence, his New York accent discernible through the static of the microphone, when the plane goes down. The last word she hears is “Peggy.” And then he’s gone. She calls his name enough times that it starts to become a dull drone, monotony to her own ears. Someone slides a hand under her elbow, whispers her name, guides her to her feet and pulls her away from the desk.

The captain’s best girl, they call her. Dugan, Juniper, Gabe, Howard. His right-hand men, filling in the spots where Peggy could not. Bucky was lost – the only man to lose his life – but he was the first to see the fighter in Steve. Dr. Erskine was the second. Peggy, well. Peggy fell third in line, maybe, but she stood out most of all.

“He would’ve been proud of you, Peg.” Dum Dum Dugan says at the bar one night, where Peggy’s perched on a stool on her third glass of wine, and she’s not drunk yet but she’s working her way to something. “He would’ve been real proud.” He holds his glass out to toast. Peggy downs her wine and orders a scotch instead.

“There is no pride in war.” She says in response, downing the scotch too and loving the burn that follows. They had sat here, not too long ago, while Steve mourned the loss of his best friend and Peggy mourned the loss of a man she hardly knew but a damned good soldier. But she held Steve’s hand and told him that alcohol cannot fill the type of void that death leaves behind. That Sergeant Barnes had made a choice, and if Steve had any respect for his best friend, he would let Bucky die with his choice.

( _Peggy…it’s my choice_ )

 He put the plane in the water, because he was a hero and a soldier and she stayed on the line with him until he died. Stark spent six months trying to find a ship in the ocean, trying to pull a soul out of a man who Peggy knew was no longer alive.

Stark was searching for a man who had disappeared. Peggy wanted to tell him that sometimes you can be looking the wrong way and not even realize. 

She never spoke of Steve to the men at SSR except Sousa, because she trusted him and he spoke with the tongue of a man who knew nothing but loss. He expected no sympathy for his injury, no special treatment or compassion. He expected her trust, a shoulder to lean on when the pain became all too much or when there was no one else to turn to. 

Peggy thought Steve would have liked Daniel, would have liked his integrity and kindness and his smarts. Steve would have liked anyone who treated Peggy like what she was – a person.

( _Women aren’t exactly lining up to dance with a guy they might step on_ , he had said. Peggy, even then, had seen the man behind the boy, had seen the hero behind the soldier.)

Heroes were a rare breed back then. Even after the war, they were still hard to come by. 

She kept the thought of Steve close as the years passed by, but life moved on. She met a man, fell in love, had children and a house with a picket fence and a lush, green lawn. Daniel called every once in a while; Thompson liked to drop round for Sunday lunch. Stark met a lady named Maria and created a family of his own. Anthony Stark was as sharp-witted as his father, as genuine as his mother, as sweet as Jarvis. The Howling Commandos retired, eventually, and Dugan sent Peggy postcards from London where he settled, always directing them to “Cap’s Best Girl”. A framed picture of pre-Serum Rogers sat on Peggy’s desk. She was 46 when she opened S.H.I.E.L.D, and 47 when she found out Edwin Jarvis had passed in his sleep.

Life moved on, as life often does, but Peggy still thought of that kid from Brooklyn who was as much hero as man.

When they found him in a sheet of ice, Sharon visited her aunt in Pennsylvania with her eyes wide and a manila folder in her hand. She was 19 years old, with her mother’s blonde hair and her father’s chocolate eyes and her aunt’s resilience and determination. 

“Aunt Peg,” She breathed, shoving the folder forward. “They found him.”

Peggy had not been invited to see him, after all those years. Many of the Howling Commandos had passed, had left no memory or legacy in their wake. They were Captain America’s soldiers – they were the Star-Spangled Man with a Plan’s army, and what use were they if their captain wasn’t around to tell his story? But Sharon called every time there was a glimpse of the soldier; spoke with her aunt for hours on end about the recovery and the unfreezing.

“I hacked past a firewall, Aunt Peg, just to get you this information. Sure hope this dude’s worth it.” Sharon said one evening while Peggy sipped bourbon and laughed at her niece. He was, she wanted to say. He was worth every moment. 

{ **Dementia: (/** **dəˈmen(t)SH(ē)ə/)** a chronic or persistent disorder of the mental processes caused by brain disease or injury and marked by memory disorders, personality changes, and impaired reasoning}

It’s slow, at first – she’s 77 and her husband is three years gone and her kids all grown up and the phone rings and for a moment she doesn’t recognize the voice on the other end. 

“Mama, it’s me.” The woman says. “It’s Angelina. It’s your daughter.”

When Sharon calls, two weeks later, Peggy shrieks something about _Howling Commandos_ and _choices_ and _not being late_ and hangs up the phone before her niece can get a word in.

When Angelina, Peggy’s first-born, finally gets to her mother’s house, it’s to a house of shambles. Margaret Carter is knelt in the wreckage of her living room, a photograph clutched to her chest and tears rolling down her cheeks. When Angelina gets the frame away from her mother, she sees it’s the framed photo of Steve Rogers, before he was a hero, before he was an icon. Back when he was just a soldier. 

Washington, D.C is different than the back roads of Pennsylvania. It’s full of life and bustling and before she gets too sick, Peggy likes to sit at the window of the nursing home and watch as the sun sets over the Capital Building.

Sharon visits as often as she can, telling her aunt of her work with S.H.I.E.L.D and what happened in New York and of the man who now lives in Sharon’s building that she thinks her aunt would like. She never says his name, and by the time Peggy can think to ask Sharon has already moved on to other topics.

One day, while Peggy’s being force-fed medication and the nurse is in the middle of switching stations from a documentary of the Second World War to some rubbish TV sitcom, a voice by the door says, “leave the documentary. 

Peggy doesn’t recognize the voice, and when she glances over it’s to a woman with straight, long red hair and a lilting smile. The nurse hesitates, flicks back to the documentary and then leaves, checking Peggy’s vitals one last time. 

“I’m sorry,” Peggy says. “But I don’t believe we’ve met.” Not that I’d remember, she almost adds, but shuts her mouth. 

The woman smiles like she knows a secret and steps into the room. She takes a seat in a wooden chair, crossing her legs elegantly and sitting in a way that reminds Peggy of _something_ – the grace, the poise. Only she can’t remember what. 

“Agent Carter,” the woman finally says, gaze flickering to the photographs that sit on Peggy’s nightstand. There’s only two. One is a group of people who the older woman thinks might be her family, and the other is a small man with honest eyes and honey hair, and the photograph is faded and coffee-stained but legible. She’s forgotten a lot of things, Margaret Ann Carter, but Steve Rogers’ face is not one of them. “My name is Natasha Romanoff. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Romanoff.” Peggy repeats, one wrinkled and withered hand reaching out as if to touch the young girl’s face. “That sounds Russian.”

Natasha smiles and leans forward, clasping the other woman’s hand in her own. For a moment, Peggy’s constant shaking ceases as this girl holds her. “It is.” She says with a voice as soft and genuine as music.

Steve visits a week later – he’s there when Peggy wakes up, and he smiles at her like it’s only been a day instead of 70 years. He looks older, somehow. Wearied and broken, in a way that only war can do. Peggy should know – she lived through one. She wonders what it would have been like, to wake up 70 years in the future. What would it have been like to still be 25, to not have been there for the deaths of your comrades, of your friends?

“You saved the world. We rather mucked it up.” She says, watching as rays of sunlight filter across his face. He laughs, and it’s a beautiful laugh, and all Peggy can think is _I remember you I remember you I remember you_.

And then she blanks, and when she looks back, Steve is alive.

( _It’s been so long. So long_ , she says, and for the life of her she can’t figure out why he looks so upset. Why he looks like the whole world was just ripped out from underneath him.)

Two days later, Margaret Carter dies in her sleep. It had been a long time coming, the doctors say. Really, it’s a miracle she survived as long as she did, but she hung on, almost like she was waiting for something.

_(I suppose I just wanted a second chance at keeping him safe.)_

 

 


End file.
